It was a block sit day, where students, monks and non residential sangha (community) meditated together in the zendo for hours without end. We had block sits three times a week. I remember having rear-end pains, one butt cheek at a time; and cramps shifting from one body part to another, oh, the discomfort. I can’t begin to tell you how many times that I wanted to run out the temple. But I sit it out, making necessary adjustments, I may had realized most of the pain was a distraction, but, reason enough for me to quietly get up and leave the zendo for a coffee break that day. You probably thought, not tea? Nope. Coffee beans with the coffee grinder on deck. Most Buddhist I know are highly caffeinated. I suspect it have something to do with enlightenment. Meditators can’t be in the zendo snoring. After all Buddhist aspires to be awakened. Ok, I know, don’t give up the zafu (cushion) for comedy. I exaggerated, actually my teacher inspired us to sit only 4 hours straight, if we could; no stress over taking rest room and coffee breaks or whatever. He taught it’s about our intention and returning to the cushion or wall. I practice Shikantaza, a mindful sitting meditating to see things precisely as it is.

The mornings always seemed long on block sit days. Every block sit wasn’t a discomfort for me, though on this particular morning, I woke up late, and had to rush to do hans and bells (gongs), skipping breakfast. We had a hour lunch break and tenzo (dinner with sangha) every day. If my stomach wasn’t growling, my eyes probably wouldn’t had been on the clock as much. Talking about forever, watching that ticker was hell! Soon as the clock struck 12 noon, I said the chant, done a few bows and practically ran out of there.

I was fixated with stuffing my face: what happened to “letting it go?”

We had more block sitting that afternoon. So I was in a hurry. I stopped at the first fast food restaurant I seen. Burger King! I instantly got excited about a flame broiled whopper w/cheese and a side of onion rings. It had been awhile since I’d ate delicious unhealthy foods. Upon driving up, I could clearly see a long line in the Burger King’s drive-thru. So, with no other choice, I went on foot. Mind you, I just left the temple and still had on my samue (monk cloths), dressed in black.

While standing in line waiting to order. A young woman had kind of asked me – may be for clarification, about Buddhists not suppose to eat meat; vowing not to kill other living beings. I wasn’t sure of her intent: was she genuinely curious or being sarcastic? I looked at her female friend for an idea of where she’s coming from, but her friend’s expression was also one that wanted answer too. There was a person ahead of me in line. I became aware that the moment wasn’t giving me an opportunity to avoid her question. As I spoke, I immediately recognized that my hunger pain had disappeared. I told her, it’s a personal choice, and yes, I eat meat: that I pray before each meal, giving thanks to the cow, the pig, the chicken, the fish, the lettuces, the tomatoes, the cucumbers, the herbs, and ginger, but not the nuts and apples, because they fell from the tree; but, I do thank the tree for its offering.

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